John 8 is a Lesson in God’s Mercy

We’re all familiar with the woman caught in adultery (John 8).

Some of us have been her publicly; some of us have been her privately—but all of us have felt her shame; her despair; her fear.

Let’s reflect on her story one more time:

but Jesus went to the Mount of Olives. Early in the morning He came again to the temple; all the people came to Him, and He sat down and taught them. The scribes and the Pharisees brought a woman who had been caught in adultery, and placing her in the midst they said to Him, “Teacher, this woman has been caught in the act of adultery. Now in the law Moses commanded us to stone such. What do you say about her?” This they said to test Him, that they might have some charge to bring against Him. Jesus bent down and wrote with His finger on the ground. And as they continued to ask Him, He stood up and said to them, “Let him who is without sin among you be the first to throw a stone at her.” And once more He bent down and wrote with His finger on the ground. But when they heard it, they went away, one by one, beginning with the eldest, and Jesus was left alone with the woman standing before Him.  Jesus looked up and said to her, “Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?” She said, “No one, Lord.” And Jesus said, “Neither do I condemn you; go, and do not sin again.”

—John 8:1-11

Now, reading this we are called to reflect on a multitude of things: the crowd, the humiliation, the threat of death, the writing in the sand, the sight of people walking away one by one. And it can be a powerful thing to imagine ourselves in this scene—during the darkest moments of our lives, the moments we grieve our actions or the actions of others—and see Jesus casting away our accusers. 

I have several times imagined myself as this woman, my face covered in dirt, fearing for my life and suffering the painful humiliation of a private act made public. Imagining what Jesus wrote in the sand for myself and the others there, and watching them drop their stones one by one. Seeing Jesus turn to me, offer His hand, and help me up. These are all incredibly powerful images, but in this reflection I think we should focus on His words:

“Let him who is without sin among you be the first to throw a stone at her.”

Now obviously, Jesus knows no one in that crowd is without sin, and the Pharisees know it too. It’s no mistake the eldest is the first to leave—they know by living the longest they have been susceptible to sin and temptation the longest, and are therefore are quicker to recognize their humility. But what’s interesting is not that the crowd recognizes they've all sinned, it’s what the One who’s never sinned does in return.

Jesus is the One “who is without sin.” 

Jesus is the only person who’s faultless. 

Jesus should be the first to “throw a stone at her.” 

But He doesn’t. He was the only one who could, and He didn’t.

And He says this to her clearly:

“Neither do I condemn you; go, and do not sin again.”

Instead of condemnation, Jesus chooses mercy. 

Instead of shame, He encourages correction. 

He doesn’t end her life because of the sin she’s committed, He encourages her to live a better life, ordered in Truth.

Is this not the Lord’s response to us every time we sin? Are these not the words spoken by the priest in confession? God doesn’t want us to stay buried in our sins or crushed by our shame. He wants us to rise, orient ourselves back to Him, and to sin no more. 

So the next time you fall, or relapse, or sin in any sense at all, don’t let the devil tell you you’re tethered to this moment. Instead, rise from the dirt, return to Our Lord in prayer, seek reconciliation, and let the words of the priest join together with Jesus’s merciful command as a prescription for your heart:

I absolve you from your sins—”Neither do I condemn you”—your sins are forgiven, go in peace, “and do not sin again.”